Hundreds of years ago，a Roman army came north from England to make war on Scotland. The Scots，a brave people，loved their country very much. They fought hard to drive the enemy out of Scotland，but there were too many Romans. It looked as if the Romans would win.

    One night，the leader of Scots marched his soldiers to the top of a hill. "We will rest here tonight，my men,” he said. "Tomorrow we will fight one more battle. We must win or we will die."

    They were all very tired，so they ate their supper quickly and fell asleep. There were four guards on duty, but they were very tired as well and also fell asleep one by one.

    The Romans were not asleep. Quickly they gathered at the foot of the hill. Slowly they climbed up the hillside, taking care not to make a sound. Closer and closer they came to the sleeping Scots. They were almost at the top. A few minutes more，the war would be over. Suddenly，one of them put his foot on a thistle(蓟). He cried out and his sudden cry woke the Scots. In a moment，they were on their feet and ready for battle. The fighting was hard but it did not last long. The Scots wiped out the Romans and saved their country.

    The thistle is not a beautiful plant. It has sharp needles all over it. Few people like it. But the people of Scotland liked it so much that they made it their national flower.

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    On Monday, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention predicted that 42% of Americans could be overweight by 2030. Our expanding waistlines lead to not only a medical problem, but according to a recent article In The New York Times, it could also endanger personal safety in some situations—in an airplane crash, for example.

    The New York Times' Christen Negroni reports that engineers and scientists are questioning whether airplane seats are adequately constructed to protect overweight travelers. Government standards for airplane seat strength（强度）— first set moe than 60 years ago — require that the seats be made for a passenger weighing 170 pounds (77kg). Today, the average American man weighs nearly 194 pounds (88kg) and the average woman 165 pounds (75kg). Negroni reports:

    “If a heavier person completely fills seat, the seat is not likely to behave as intended during a crash,” said Robert Salazar, the leading scientist at the Center for Applied Biomechanics at the University of Virginia. “The energy absorption that is built into the aircraft seat is likely to be overpowered and the passengers will not be protected properly.”

    “Nor would the injury be limited to that passenger only,” Dr. Salzar said. “If a seat or a seat belt fails,” he said, “those people who are seated nearby could be endangered from ‘the uncontrolled movements of the passenger'.”

    Most complaints about airplane seats focus on their lack of comfort and high ticket price, and whether overweight passengers should be made to buy two seats. But The New York Times' article brings up another reason to feel anxious about flying. Investigators of the issue got in touch with the airplane seat and seat belt makers, but they refused to comment on the problem. Experts agreed that crash testing should be done with overweight dummies （人体模型）. Both airplane seats and seat belts should be tested, they said.

    Fortunately, however, according to Nora Marshall, a senior adviser at the National Transportation Safety Board, the board's investigators have never seen an accident involving a commercial plane in which the weight of a passenger was a problem.

    There is a story about a man who lost his legs and left arm in an accident. After the accident, only a finger and thumb on his right hand remained.

    He was a brilliant, creative, and educated man. He had gained a lot of experience while traveling around the world, so he became very depressed after his accident. He was afraid that he would spend the rest of his life suffering and would no longer be able to spend his life in a meaningful way. Then, he realized that he still had partial function of his right hand and could still write even though it was very difficult. An idea occurred to him. “Why not write to other people who need encouragement? ”

    He wrote to the prison ministry about sending letters to the prisoners. The prison minister replied, “Writing to the prisoners is acceptable, but your letters will not be answered. ”

    Filled with excitement, the man knew he could write his letters. He began sending one-way messages of God's love, hope, strength, and encouragement. He wrote twice a week, testing his strength and ability to the limit. He poured his heart and soul into his words and shared his experience, sense of humor, optimism, and faith.

    It was difficult to write those letters, especially without hope of a reply. One day he received a letter from the prison ministry. It was a short note from the officer who monitored and checked the prison mail.

    The letter said, “Please write on the best paper you can afford. Your letters are passed from cell to cell until they literally fall to pieces! ”

    No matter what circumstances life may present, we all have unique experiences, abilities, and God-given talents. We can discover ways to reach others who desperately need messages of encouragement and strength.

    The best way of learning a language is using it. The best way of learning English is talking in English as much as possible. Sometimes you'll get your words mixed up (混合) and people will not understand you. Sometimes people will say things too quickly and you can't understand them. But if you keep your sense of humor, you can always have a good laugh at the mistakes you make. Don't be unhappy if people seem to be laughing at your mistakes. It's better for people to laugh at your mistakes than to be angry with you, because they don't understand what you are saying. The most important thing for learning English is: "Don't be afraid of making mistakes because everyone makes mistakes."

    The 65-year-old Steve Goodwin was found suffering from early Alzheimer's (阿尔楚海默症). He was losing his memory.

    A software engineer by profession, Steve was a keen lover of the piano, and the only musician in his family. Music was his true passion, though he had never performed outside the family.

    Melissa, his daughter, felt it more than worthwhile to save his music, to which she fell asleep catch night when she was young. She thought about hiring a professional pianist to work with her father.

    Naomi, Melissa's best friend and a talented pianist, got to know about this and showed willingness to help.

    "Why do this?" Steve wondered.

    "Because she cares." Melissa said.

    Steve nodded, tears in eye.

    Naomi drove to the Goodwin home. She told Steve she'd love to hear him play. Steve moved to the piano and sat at the bench, hands trembling as he gently placed his fingers on the keys.

    Naomi put a small recorder near the piano, Starts and stops and mistakes. Long pauses, heart sinking. But Steve pressed on, playing for the first time in his life for a stranger.

    "It was beautiful." Naomi said after listening to the recording. "The music was worth saving."

    Her responsibility, her privilege, would be to rescue it. The music was sill in Steve Goodwin. It was bidden in rooms with doors about to be locked.

    Naomi and Steve met every other week and spent hours together. He'd move his fingers clumsily on the piano, and then she'd take his place. He struggled to explain what he heard in his head. He stood by the piano, eyes closed, listening for the first time to his own work being played by someone else.

    Steve and Naomi spoke in musical code lines, beats, intervals, moving from the root to end a song in a new key. Steve heard it. All of it. He just couldn't play it.

    Working with Naomi did wonders for Steve. It had excited within him the belief he could write one last song. One day, Naomi received an email. Attached was a recording, a recording of loss and love, of the fight. Steve called it "Melancholy Flower".

    Naomi heard multiple stops and starts, Steve struggling, searching while his wife Joni called him "honey" and encouraged him. The task was so hard, and Steve, angry and upset, said he was quitting. Joni praised him, telling her husband this could be his signature piece.

    Naomi managed to figure out 16 of Steve's favorite, and most personal songs. With Naomi's help, the Goodwin family found a sound engineer to record Naomi playing Steve's songs. Joni thought that would be the end. But it wasn't.

    In the months leading up to the 2016 Oregon Repertory Singers Christmas concert, Naomi told the director she had a special one in mind: "Melancholy Flower"

    She told the director about her project with Steve. The director agreed to add it to the playing list. But Naomi would have to ask Steve's permission. He considered it an honor.

    After the concert, Naomi told the family that Steve's music was beautiful and professional. It needed to be shared in public.

    The family rented a former church in downtown Portland and scheduled a concert. By the day of the show, more than 300 people had said they would attend.

    By then, Steve was having a hard time remembering the names of some of his friends. He knew the path his life was now taking. He told his family he was at peace.

    Steve arrived and sat in the front row, surrounded by his family. The house lights faded. Naomi took the stage. Her fingers. His heart.

It was very late and everyone had left the cafe except an old man who sat in the shadow the leaves of the tree made against the electric light. In the day time the street was dusty,but at night the dew settled the dust and the old man liked to sit late because he was deaf and now at night it was quiet and he felt the difference,The two waiters inside the cafe knew that the old man was a little drunk,and while he was a good client they knew that if he became too drunk he would leave without paying,so they kept watch on him. 

"Last week he tried to commit suicide,"one waiter said. 

"Why?"

"He was in despair. "

"What about?"

 "Nothing. "

"How do you know it was nothing?" 

"He has plenty of money. "

They sat together at a table that was close against the wall near the door of the cafe and looked at the terrace(露台)where the tables were ll empty except where the old man sat in the shadow of the leaves of the tree that moved slightly in the wind. 

"The guard will pick him up,"one waiter said. 

"What does it matter if he gets what he's after?"

"He had better get off the street now. The guard will get him. They went by five minutes ago. "

The old man sitting in the shadow tapped his saucer with his glass. The younger waiter went over to him. 

"What do you want?"

The old man looked at him. "Another brandy,"he said. 

"You'll be drunk,"the waiter said. The old man looked at him. The waiter went away. 

"He'll stay all night,"he said to his colleague. "I'm sleepy now. I never get into bed before three o'clock. He should have killed himself last week. "

The younger waiter took the brandy bottle and marched out to the old man's table. 

"You should have killed yourself last week,"he said to the deaf man. The old man motioned with his finger. "A little more,"he said. The waiter poured on into the glass. "Thank you,"the old man said. The waiter took the bottle back inside the cafe. He sat down at the table with his colleague again.